Death at Every Streetlight
by Kenzie901
Summary: After a long hard time on her own, Florence finds herself again in the eyes of a small child. Determined to protect this one, she compromised her instinct to live in a prison with Colby, and a surprisingly large group. Will she ever find love again? Will she ever properly fill the gaping void that has filled her life?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: The Compromise**

Chapter One

The leaves crunch lightly under my quick feet, I leave the minimum amount of tracks possible, but it's hard with a tag-a-long. I found this kid hiding in some tree house, alone and cold. I asked if his parents or group was around and he just shook his head, and he didn't really object when I offered him to come with me. I didn't really want to leave the poor kid, so I just kinda took him. He's been with me for the past few days, he seems okay so far; he knows to stay quiet, stay down, and when walkers come - to stay out of my way.

His name is Colby; he has dark brown skin and black eyes with a growing fro. I should probably trim it down for him, or else he'll start to look like the fresh prince of Bellaire. He seems to have adapted well to the infection, the only real 'bad' habit of his is that he likes to hold my hand when walking, which is not all bad, it just slows me down from my gun.

The number of walkers seems to have dropped within the past hour or so, I've been counting how many I've seen for the day so I can make predictions, but today seems like an outlier; or that we've stumbled on another group.

I really don't like groups, they always break up, they never want to stay in motion. They want to keep safe in one place; but what they seemed to fail to learn from history that walls always get breached. Some sooner than later, and sooner seemed to be a theme with the groups that I was a part of.

I've been with, oh, about four groups since shit hit the fan. First group lasted nine days; yeah, nine! I was the only one to make it out alive, and that's only because my neighbors were being eaten by a herd of walkers. My second group lasted a tad longer, four months, we spit, we couldn't agree on where to move. I left in the night leaving a note; I came back to the sight a few weeks later to see a bunch of empty tents and most of them shot or gone, I never did figure out what happened to them. My third group consisted of an ex and his family, yeah, talk about awkward. I was with them for around, uh, two months, a herd came by and killed his family, leaving only us, I left as soon as I could, I assume he got bit or something. And lastly my fourth and final group, boy, that one was the worst. It was me, some army brats and some military families. It ended up with an all-out brawn of who-has-the-better-guns, I ended up killing a man who wasn't a walker, it's not my first time, but that doesn't mean it was all-okay.

And then after months and months of being on my own, leaving people who needed my help, killing a few people here and there, I found Colby, alone and starving in a tree house. Funny how we found each other, huh?

Colby's grip tightened as he gasped and pointed straight ahead, I squinted my eyes to focus on what I saw was an old prison. He tugs on my arm when I stopped walking; he tugged for a few more seconds and then said, "Florence!" he looked up at me and smiled, "I see plants! That means someone's living there!"

"Heh," I laughed a little, "plants are everywhere, Colbs."

"No! Like, _garden_ plants! I think I see tomatoes and peas!" He gets a little louder and I have to bring my finger to my mouth to remind him to stay quiet.

"I assume you want to check it out?"

"Pleaseeeeeee!" he pleads, I can't say so when he begs like that. So he and I make our way to the prison, it's funny how just a year or so ago I was all the way up in New York, now I'm in Georgia, this is Georgia, right?

We make it to the edge of the woods and my vision clears a little, and I see a father and a son, and Asian boy and a tall brown haired woman. Holy cow, there are people living in here, like, normal people, living like the dead are not just trotting around eating living people. What else do they have in there, a baby? Do they have some sort of zombie-school going on?

We start walking around the fences when one of the people see us, then all of the sudden they all retrieve their guns and make their way towards the fence. Sheesh, we were looking at your vegetable garden, not looking to take over your sanctuary.

A bearded man makes his way to the fence, gun pointed at me, "What are you doing here?" he asks me in his thick southern twang.

"Just moving around, a herd moved into the neighborhood that we were hiding in, so we moved along." I grip Colby's hand, "Just passing through."

"Do you want to stay here?" he suddenly asks.

"Yeah!" Colby blurts, "I hate moving so much."

"I have to ask the lady you're with three questions, are you okay with that, sir?" He asks Colby.

"Of course!" Colby flashes the man a smile, and he leads us to the gate. This place sure is heavily guarded. We are kinda-sorda greeted at the gate by the Asian boy, his appearing-to-be girlfriend, an old bearded man, some guy with a crossbow and a black guy with a crazy look in his eye.

"Imma' have to ask you to strip of all your weapons." The man tells me, "all of em'"

"Sure, will I get them back?"

"After I ask you some questions." He leads us to a cell clock titled C, where I strip of all my weapons (which is a lot), and we sit at a table and it's just the three of us. "My name is Rick, by the way." He quickly adds.

"I'm Florence, and the kid is Colby."

"Okay, Florence," He stops everything he is doing and looks at me, "how many walkers have you killed?"

"You just asked the vaguest question," I smile, "every single one I could, so, a lot."

"Okay, how many people have you killed?" I stop dead in my words, why does he need to know that, I glace over at Colby who is assuming me to say zero, but I don't wanna' lie.

"Before or after the outbreak?" I look at him; by the look on his face I can tell no one's ever said that.

"Both." His facial expression hasn't changed.

"Well, before, several," I look at the table, "and after, four."

"Why?" He quickly asks.

"Before, I was a sniper for the military, trained in distance combat, and our platoon got raided and I got a few with an old knife," I look over to Colby, "And after, someone I trusted tried to kill me, scavengers attempted to kill me for supplies, and a women tried to kidnap me and _sell_ me." Rick nodded his head and eventually walked away, saying he needs to talk to some council.

"Florence," Colby squeaks, "I didn't know you were in the military."

I look over at him and rub my hand on his head, "Yeah, that's why I'm so good at what I do."

"My Daddy was in the military." He whispers, fighting tears.

"C'mon, Hun." I open my arms out inviting him in for a hug, which he generally accepts. He lets a few tears seep out before drying up just in time for Rick and a few people to come into the room.

"You're welcome to stay here." Rick announces, "We could use your skill, and now you and Colby have a safer place to stay." The people behind him all seem to glance at us, judging us by their own standards. Some of the people where at the gate when we first arrived.

"So," I break the ice, "my guns."

"Oh yeah," A woman with short grey hair blurts, "They're all in the box over there, you sure do have a lot of guns and knives."

"You always have to be prepared." I smile and get out of my chair with Colby loyally following me. I click all my things into place, my pistols at my hips, my Bowie knifes tucked into my military boots, my backup pistol in the inside sleeve of my vest, my survival knife in my pocket, and Thomas, my M24, over my shoulder. This bad boy has saved my life many more times than I can count, against foes both dead and living.

Colby sits in awe, watching as I put my babies back in their place one by one. "Can you teach me how to use one of those things?" He locks his eyes on my pistol; I chuckle and stretch my arms out.

"Maybe someday Colbs, when your older and when your hands aren't so shaky." He sighs, I remember being his age and wanting to play with guns and whatnot. But back then you could get an airsoft gun and go at in the backyard with old soda cans. But now, you'd have to use a real gun, and I don't know if I want to let an eight-year-old play with my weapons.

"How long where you in the military?" Colby and I's moment was broken by women with brown skin.

"Twelve years," I look over my shoulder, hands on my holsters, "why?"

"No reason, just curious to your experience." She flashes a smile and they all evacuate the room and leave the door open, I guess it's okay for Colby and me to walk among them. I start walking for the door when Colby grabs my hand; I secretly smile as we walk to the door. We are making a new life for us, even if it's not my way; I'm willing to give it a try. I just hope this doesn't turn out like my past groups, for mine and Colby's sake.


	2. Chapter 2

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>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" Chapter Twop  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" Colby and I adventure around our new abode, it's like a small town, there is a garden, pigs, and people! There is even a baby; I think I heard someone call her Judith. The same woman from cell block C follows us around like were some kind of plague, I guess it's to keep an eye on the new recruits?p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" We walk until we find some more kids, two girls and another boy. They seem to be arguing over something as we approach them, they quickly quiet down when are a few feet away.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Sup kiddos." I greet them all, they don't really say anything back they just kinda look at me, "Well, um, this is Colby, he really hasn't interacted with kids his own age. So would you mind hanging with him?" I paint on a smile, and one of the girls giggle. I don't see what's funny, is it something I said? I don't know what kids now-a-days say, I shot guns for a living, not take care of kids, sheesh!p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Uh, sure," The boy in the sheriff's hat says, "hello Colby, I'm Carl."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "And I'm Mika!" The smaller girl announces.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "My name is Lizzie." The older one makes known, something seems off about that girl.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "H-hi." Colby meekly peeps.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Alright, Colby is shy, so play easy with him, alright?" I keep smiling as I rub his head, "Have fun playing, uh, tag, or hide-n-go-seek, or whatever." Colby gives me a full mouth smile before joining the ranks of the kid. I'm happy to see him playing with kids his own age, its better then walking around watching some 30-year-old woman shoot dead people.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" I walk away and for some reason I keep looking over my shoulder, like I just dropped my kids at his first day of kindergarten. I can't help but catch myself smiling, and when I turn the corner I spot Rick, crossbow guy and the Asian kid.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Florence!" Rick exclaims as he motions me towards him and the guys. I walk up towards them with my hands in my pockets, looking back and forth between the three of them.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Hey." I greet them all.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "So, we have another sharp shoot to the group, this is Florence." Rick introduces me.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Hello, Florence, the names Glenn." The Asian smiles and shakes my hand.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Huh," crossbow guy shakes my hand, "You gotta' funny name, Florence. I'm Daryl."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Heh, thanks, it's my last name." I smile.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "That's not any better." He adds.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "You go by your last name?" Glenn asks, "Why?"p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "It's what they called me when I was with the marines. It kinda stuck."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Well what's your first name?" Rick asks.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" I lean in real close to the three of them before whispering, "That's a secret."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "That's not fair!" Glenn laughs.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Heh, sorry kid," I look at all three of them "so when are you all going to show me around?"p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Right now." Rick tilts his head back and we all follow him, I think I've figured out that Rick is the leader here. Even if he doesn't wanna be, he sure seems in charge. He shows me the cell blocks, and the garden and the gates. He shows me all the exits and the grave site, it's nice to see people bury their dead again.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" Rick turns around to look at me, "What'd ya think?" he asks with a crooked smile. I return the slanted smile with my own.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "I think it's cute." I admit.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Cute?" he playfully questions.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Yeah!" I snicker, "Cute."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "I haven't heard that one before." He looks around with his smile still on his face.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "I see how it could be cute." Glenn plays along.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" We all look at Daryl, who seems to be laughing on the inside, but still a rock on the outside. "Eh, I'm having trouble seeing a prison cute, brother." We all laugh for a moment before I break it up.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "So, who are all the kids?" I look at Rick.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Carl is my son, and the other two are Lizzie and Mika."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "That explains why you two look alike; I was just curious because I left Colby with them. It's been so long since he's seen another kid, I don't know if he had siblings or what, but it's good for him to play with others his age."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "I understand."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Have you met lil' ass kicker yet?" Daryl asks me.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Who?" I turn my head to him.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Judith, Rick's baby, I call her lil' ass kicker."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "That's quite the pet name."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Wanna' meet her?" Daryl asks me, tilting his head towards the door to cell block C.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Sure, babies are cool." I quickly say goodbye to Glenn and Rick, and then Daryl and I make our way for cell block C.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "So, what kinda' gun is that?" He asks about Thomas.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "He's an m24." I confidently say, holding onto his strap a little lighter.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "He?"p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "His name is Thomas."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Why is your gun's name more normal then yours?" He asks lighthearted.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "That's just how the dice rolled I guess."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" We make little chit chat as we enter the cell block, and we quiet down as we see other forms of life. There is an old bearded man with a blond teenage girl holding a baby.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "How's lil' ass kicker?" Daryl asks the blond.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "She's doing fine, she's starting to babble." She passes Judith to Daryl who brings her my way. She's a beautiful little girl, big blue eyes, light brown hair, and a big ol' head. She babbles in his strong arms, looking back and forth between him and me.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Hey sweetie." I lean in to talk to her, she just babbles at me. "You are a site for sore eyes, eh?" I wink at her and poke her belly. "You look just like your Daddy." I smile and stand straight up, looking at Daryl. "Where's her mother?"p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "She died in child birth." Quickly responded the blond teen.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Oh…" I didn't know what to say.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "It's okay; she's in a better place now." She smiled at me before turning to the bearded man.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" Daryl walks back to the teen and hands her back Judith, or lil' ass kicker. Without turning to look at me, he announces, "Ya' know, you should put that gun to use."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "And how would you suppose that?" I ask as I place my hands on my hips.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "We are going on a run tomorrow and we need a distance shooter, can you use a knife, or are you useless in close combat?" I can't tell anymore if he's playing or just pushing my buttons.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "I can use a knife."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Good, so you wanna' go tomorrow?" He finally turns around but I can't read his expression.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Sure." I agree causally.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Great, I'll tell the others." He says before walking off.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" After a few minutes of looking around, the teen girl starts talking to me. I wonder how a fragile little girl like her managed to survived this long. Her bones look so slender, I feel like I could almost break her in half if I wanted to.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" She asks me meaningless questions, like how old I am, what I did before the infection, was I ever married, did I ever have kids, do I like kids, how my parents were and blah blah blah. Things that someone shouldn't care about now. She is pretty; I'll give her that, but pretty don't make the walkers walk away. Someone was picking the slack up for her or something, you cant em style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; outline: none;"askem the walkers to death./p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "I think I'm going to go and find Colby." I announce as I get up from my chair. Beth (the blond teen) tells me goodbye and continues playing with Judith. When I open the door the fresh air hits me like a bullet. I breathe in a refreshing gulp and exhale a long and reliving breath. I look around from the garden to the grave yard, yeah, this place is definitely cute.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" I think I'll stay for a while. p 


	3. Chapter 3

p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" Chapter Three/p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" My eyes open in the early hours of dawn, I look out the window and the sky is still a shade of dark blue. I rub my eyes as I sit up from the bed, I stretch my arms out before getting up. I quickly make my bed before lacing up my boots.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Florence…?" I hear a feint voice call for me.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "I'm here, baby." I warmly return his call. Colby peeks his head out from his top bunk and climbs. He falls on my bed and grabs my pillow, quickly messing up my bed. "Are you alright?" I ask Colby, I quickly light the candle in my cell before seeing Colby's tear stained cheeks.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Oh, baby!" I get out of my seat and crawl next to him and wrap him in my arms, "Are you alright? What happened?" I whisper into the air.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "I had a bad dream." He quietly admits.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "About what?"p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "I dreamt that you went out with the guys, with the dude with the crossbow…" he hiccups, "and you never came back."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Oh sweetie," I pet his little head, "I'll always come back."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Do you promise?" He sits up and his charcoal eyes meet mine, holding up his pinkie.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "I promise." I smile and curl my pinkie around his. A smile creped across his face, landing from ear to ear. He didn't really say so much after that, he just laid there smiling, listening to me tell him stories about my life, telling him about my fiancé and my mother, my brothers and my son. I let out some things in that bed that I never wanna' let out again, my son is a touchy subject, it's something that would normally bring tears to my eyes thinking about it, but with Colby it just seemed different.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "You had a son?" he asked with wonder in his eyes.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "I had a son," I exhale, "his name was Foster."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Foster Florence," he mumbles under his breath.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Marsh," I correct him, "his name was Foster Isaiah Marsh."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "What was his birthday?"p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "January 4th, 2008." I whisper, "he would be five years old."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "What happened to him?" he bluntly asks, I know he doesn't mean is so blunt, but his words just come out to rough.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "He was a stillborn baby, he never had the chance." I quietly admit.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Oh," he stammers, "I-I'm sorry Florence." He frowns and quiets down. Our conversation seems to halt at that moment as we both lay there.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Alright Colby," I sit up, "I have to meet up with some people, alright? I have to get supplies for the group, for you." I wink at him as I get out of the bed and toss Thomas over my shoulder and lock all my weapons into place.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Remember, you promised." He says as I walk towards the door.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" I raise my pinkie and smile at him looking over my shoulder, "I promise."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" I quickly wipe my eyes as I leave the cell block, man, it's been awhile since I've talked about Foster. I still love him with every inch of my body, I still remember holding his lifeless little body after I birthed him, I still have the image of his little face chiseled into the back of my head.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" But, I have to store back those memories, because I have to live for now, I have to survive, not just for me, not just for Colby, to live the life that Foster never had the chance to. I walk to where we met that last time; it's just me and Daryl for now.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Nice to see you're awake, princess." Daryl greets.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "I can't tell if you're being sarcastic or sincere." I smile.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Take it how you want it." He grumbles this guy's mood change more than the weather.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" I lean against the wall waiting for Rick or Glenn too show up, the thoughts of my conversation with Colby keep reoccurring in my head, so to keep my mind away from them I try and make conversation with Daryl.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "So, you shoot?" I ask looking at his crossbow.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Yeah." He answers rather monotony, "How long have you been with the kid? Is he yours?"p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Colby has been with me for a few weeks, and no, he's not mine, we look nothing alike." I try and laugh off, gee, what's it with this group and wanting to talk about kids.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "I figured that, just wanted to make sure, genes are tricky ya' know."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Oh I know, my son-" I quickly cut myself off, "my em style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; outline: none;"brotherem, and I look nothing alike, so I know the humor of genes." I quickly look away. /p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "You gotta' son?" he curiously asks.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Had." I quietly correct, "Had, but that's the past. Let's change the subject."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Okay, princess." Him calling me that is going to drive me crazy, I can't tell if he's making fun of the fact that I'm a woman or if he's being real. I'm leaning more towards the making fun of me part, he seems like the dry humor guy to do so.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" Rick finally shows up after a couple painfully awkward minutes later, and starts putting things into the car. I don't see Glenn so I assume he's not coming. "What are we looking for?" I ask Rick as I help him pile supplies into the car.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "The basics, food, water, things of value, and things that can be put to use."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Seems simple enough."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" Daryl and Rick get in the front seat as I sit in the back, since I'm called princess I think I should get the princess seat, or shotgun, but I don't think princess privileges apply here. The car ride is quiet and awkward, Rick sometimes talks about his son Carl, who only makes me want to bring up Foster, but I keep it down. Daryl also seems to understand to not being up my son.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" After thirty minutes of silent driving we show up at an old neighborhood. I don't see many walkers around though my window, and the place seems un-looted, sweet, maybe I can find something for Colby here.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" We each get out of the car unannounced; silence seems to be the theme of this run. Rick opens the trunk and we all get our own supplies out, I to Thomas, Daryl to his crossbow, and Rick to his pistols. "Alright, I'm going to hit 239, Daryl I want you to go with Florence to his 233, and ya'll can make your way towards 239."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "I don't need a baby sitter I can handle myself." I quickly admit. p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "This is just too see how you do, okay? Just work with me here." He tries to convince me I sigh and let him. I can kinda understand, he wants to see how I do, I've only been doing this for years, but ya' know, what do I know?p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Fine."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "I ain't your baby sitter, princess." He tells me, "I'm just here to evaluate ya', see how ya' do."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "I was one of the best snipers in the Marines, and have over twenty registered kills with Thomas and over thirty with my knifes in my boots, if I can do that to living people, imagine what I can do to something already dead. I shouldn't have to prove myself."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Yeah, yeah, Princess. You can talk all the game you want but unless you deliver we ain't ever gunna' take you with us on something real."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Fine, whatever Daryl." I end the conversation. First I let out about Foster to Colby, and I leaked that I had a son to Daryl, and now I have a baby sitter to prove what I can do? This day seemed to have gone from bad to worse.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" I pick the lock to the house, and slowly open the door, my finger on the trigger. I treed lightly with the hick behind me, entering every room with my gun first. So far I have collected canned goods, a few water bottles, and a half empty bottle of aspirin.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" I head upstairs and the first room I enter is a little boy's room. I quickly run my eyes over everything before gathering a stuffed dog, a cool looking kid's hat and a baseball.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Why are ya' grabbing that stuff?" Daryl asked me.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "For Colby. He likes dogs, he always complains about the sun in his eyes, and he said something about playing in a little league baseball team." I smile as I toss my new findings in my pack. "Let's hit the rest of the houses."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" In the remanding houses we find more canned food, more blankets, more water, and more knick knacks and stuff. Every now and again I'll find something that Colby would like and I pick it up, and Daryl gives me a look. He can suck it, if I wanna' grab something for Colby I damn sure will.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" We meet back up at the car and toss our things into the car; we do an inventory of our new stock. It's strange that we haven't encountered a walker or anything our here. We pile into the car and as soon as we are buckled in and Rick starts driving, he asks me about the things I got for Colby.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "So, Florence, I heard you got something's for Colby."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Yes."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Why?" He asks as he looks into the rearview.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Because, it will make him happy. And making him happy makes me happy."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" He's not given the chance to answer before Daryl screams for Rick to watch the road; he swerves and hits a walker, causing him to immediately stop the car. "Shit." I hear him mumble under his breath.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" We all get out of the car to see the walker we just hit, he looks fresh, probably a few days old, a couple weeks at the oldest. "Ey, brother," Daryl calls out, grabbing his crossbow, "we got more freaks." And almost as if on cue, more walkers come out, one by one they advance towards us.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" Daryl begins to shoot them with his crossbow, Rick pulls out his pistols and I bring out my dual pistols, sorry Thomas, just I need fire power here, not accuracy. I begin to take the walkers out in doubles. em style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; outline: none;"Bang!em Rick gets one. em style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; outline: none;"Thunk! /emDaryl gets one. em style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; outline: none;"Bang! Bang! /emI get two. This pattern continues until there is a bridge of walker bodies around us. My pile larger than the other two./p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Killing two birds with one stone?" Rick asks as he looks at my pistols.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Yeah." I smile and lock my pistols away. I hope I just proved myself useful. I can snipe em style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; outline: none;"andem kill two birds with one stone! Heh, I can't wait to tell Colby that when I return./p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" We pull the bodies out of our way and pile back into the car. We smell like death, literally, I probably should have picked up a stick of deodorant while we were in one of those houses.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" Oh well, I think as I pull out the baseball I got for Colby. I hope he likes it, it's not like I went through a lot of trouble, I just hope he likes it. It's another quiet ride back to the prison. There are no questions on authority or talks about their kids. I guess because the last time we ran into a small herd of walkers.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" We pull into the gates and the Carol lady closes them behind us. We each get out of the car, grab our things and leave the group supplies. Rick runs off to some council thing, I'm assuming to talk about me. Daryl looks up at me, "You're a pretty good shot, Princess." He gives me some half-assed smile and walks away. I just smile and accept the compliment, I'd rather hear 'you're a good shot' then 'I like your hair'.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" I walk back to the cell block and open the doors, I see Daryl sitting at one of the tables and even though I want to I don't say anything. I just want to give Colby his things and he his little face light up. I turn the corner for my cell and he Colby lying in bed, he sits up and happily exclaims, "You kept your promise!" with another beautiful ear-to-ear smile.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "I always will." I say a little too confidently, "I always will, baby." I smile and look at his lit up face, maybe; just maybe, Colby is my second chance, my second Foster.p 


	4. Chapter 4

p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;"Chapter Four/p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "How'd your run go, Florence?" he eagerly asks me as I sit on my bed next to him.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "It went well," I tell him as I open my pack, "I got some things for you."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "What?" he smiles and I see one of his teeth are loose; I may have to go on another run as the tooth fairy. p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Mhm," I say as I pull out a stuffed dog, "Here you go!" I hand it to him and he immediately hugs it close to his chest, "That's not all," I say as I pull out the cool looking hat and place it on his head, and toss the baseball at him. I see tear developing in his eyes as he leans in and hugs me.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Thank you! Thank you, Florence!" he cries as he holds onto me.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "It's no big deal, baby, truly." I smile and hold him. I kind of feel like Santa, minus it being the dead of summer, and I'm only delivering to one child.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "I have to go and meet up with Rick so see how I did, okay baby? You can either go and meet up with the other kids or you can play here." I kiss him on the head and get up; he follows me so I assume he's going to play with Carl. He tosses the ball from hand to hand, I think I did a great job picking him some things.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" We open our cell block door and we part ways, he turns to go and meet the other kids and I turn to go and meet the guys. We wave each other goodbye, and I can't help but feel sad to see him go, even if it's just to go play. I can't protect him if I don't know exactly where he is.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" I push those thoughts back as I put on a happy front; I alive, I gave Colby new things, and made him happy! Yet deep down I'm still sad, it's like no matter what I do in this foul, failing world nothing is going to make me truly joyful again. The last time I remember being truly happy was years ago, when Foster was still in my tummy, and I was still in the arms of my fiancé. Things where so simple back then, back when all I had to worry about was taking my pre natal vitamins and feeding everyone. p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" I see Daryl in the distance, alone. Not a surprise there. I begin walking towards him when he sees me, and starts walking my way. He's tall, but not ginormous, he's muscular, but not a juice head. And for some reason, I'm compelled to be around him, something draws me towards him, it could be his lone-wolf attitude, or it could be that deep down inside I know he's a good guy, no matter how much of a bad-guy look he puts out there. p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Hey, princess." He greets me. It still drives me insane that I can't read him.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Hey." I smile and greet him back.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Rick wants to talk to ya', about our run."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Is it good?" I cross my arms and ask him. p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "I think so, I gave him a good report, but I don't know how he feels about grabbing the things for your boy Colby."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "He would do the same if it where his." I rudely say.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Huh?" Daryl steps back and looks at my funny.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "I said; if it where his boy, if he were in our position, he would do the same. That boy has nothing, no parents, no siblings, no nothing. All he has is me, and I don't even know if that's enough to keep him alive. I worry every second of every damn day if that boy is going to live under my protection." I step back and breath, try and calm down, I shouldn't be going off on Daryl, "All I did was grab him a hat, a stuffed dog, and a baseball. I wanted to see him smile; see him happy, that was possibly the first time I saw a true smile on his face. And I would do it all over again just to make him happy again." I shake my head and start walking away, "Tell that to your leader."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" He stops and stands there for a minute, just looking at me, I don't know if he's stunned that I went off on him, or what. "Wait, Florence!" he calls out for me as he starts walking towards me. I don't respond, I just keep walking. "Florence." He calls out, a little more sternly this time, almost like he's demanding me. Shit, if he thinks I'm going to stop when he's em style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; outline: none;"demandingem me, he must be crazy./p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Florence." He calls out again as he puts his hand on my shoulder, "Florence."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "What?" I snap at him and turn around.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "I didn't mean it like that," he looks at me in the eyes, "Just come with me to see Rick, he will tell you what he thinks, even if he doesn't like it, we need your firepower, your accuracy." He takes his hand off of my shoulder, "We need you around here, princess."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" His calming words seem to melt my anger away; I don't let him see that though, I keep the angry front up. We don't say much as we walk to see the almighty Rick Grimes. I eventually look at him and turn away when he turns to look at me. I feel like I'm in grade school again, just playing with my emotions with some boy who doesn't share them.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" He opens the door and we enter cell block C, and I see Rick and I assume the council sitting at a table. "Hey!" Carol greets me and motions me to sit down, which I was going to do anyway. Daryl goes and sits next to Rick, huh, look at that, Daryl was a part of the council. So he was a spy for them, surprise surprise. I should have seen that coming, I guess calling me princess was a way for him to butter me up.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "I think you did a good job." Rick announces, sitting back in his chair, "But, I heard you gathered some things." He says looking at my dead in the eyes.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Yes." I answer back, "I sure did. I got a hat, a stuffed dog, and a baseball for the boy I watch over." I cut our eye contact and lean back in my seat, "I thought he'd like it, and he did."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Well that's good, did you gather anything else?" he asks me.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Yeah, canned foods, water, and some dish rags. I put them all in the car. Unless someone moved them they should still be back there."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Well," Rick scratched his scraggily beard, "I think you did well, you did more than what we asked to keep the morality of your boy up. Good job."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" I look up, "You're not mad?" I ask, looking puzzled.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "No."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Huh." I mumble and look at Daryl, who has his eyes locked on me. "Am I free to go?" I ask, they all nod their head and let me free. I leave the cell block as fast as I can, damn Daryl, letting me think that Rick was mad at me, fuck him. What a little shit.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" I sigh and start walking slower, I shouldn't be mad, but I just can't help it! I stop and stuff my hands in my pockets, looking at the sky I start making faces and shapes out of the clouds, I see an elephant, then a giraffe, then a small child, a chicken, then finally the shape of a man's face, his jaw is strong and his cheek bones are definite. "Andrew." I whisper under my breath, Andrew was my fiancé, I don't know if he's dead or alive, if he has survived this damned infection, or what. But that is definitely his face in that cloud.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Florence." I hear someone call my name, his voice is cold and strong, it's Andrew's voice. "Florence." I hear him call for me again; his voice is cold yet warming, it gives me Goosebumps, I smile and close my eyes.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Florence!" someone grabs my shoulders and spins me around, it's not Andrew, its Daryl. My face snaps from dreaming to anger, I pull away from his grasp and look at him. "Florence, I know you're mad at me." He admits.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Damn right I'm mad at you, you led me to believe that Rick was mad at me, when he wasn't." I shake my head at him. p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "He sounded mad!" He tries to reason with me.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "And when where you going to tell me you were a part of this little council?" I peck at him.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "What?"p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "The council! The thing that makes the decisions around here, the thing you're a part of and failed to tell me, what where you, some spy set to watch me?" I raise my voice at him, "was calling me princess some way to butter me up, lower my guard?"p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "No, Florence. No!" he steps towards me, "No. I thought you knew, everyone knows, it's not a secret."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Well you sure as hell forgot to mention it to me."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "I thought you knew." He lowers his voice.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Sigh…" I let out.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Besides," He cuts off my train of thought, "It's not like you've been completely honest with me, either." p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "What does that mean?" I turn to him.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Your son, your fiancé."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Those things don't determine if I'm a spy or not, me not wanting to talk about my son, or my past fiancé does not mean I'm spying on you, it does not mean I'm running back to my superior to tell them every little thing I noticed about you."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" We stop arguing long enough for our eyes to meet, and that stair is broken by Rick screaming for Daryl, "Daryl, Daryl!" we quickly turn our gazes towards the running officer, "The roof!" he screams and points, we both run towards the area where he was pointing, we sprint through grass, we fling open doors and dash up stairs. We ran through the halls and opened the roof doors to see Daryl, and the crazy looking black guy, and two bodies burned to a crisp.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Someone murdered them!" he yells.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "We will find them Tyreese, calm down!" Rick orders him, which Tyreese declines.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "I will not calm down! Karen and David have been murdered!" he continues to yell and scream.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" Daryl points his crossbow at Tyreese, "You better calm down."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" Tyreese looks between the two men, "If murder okay here, now?" he tilts his head at Rick, and then jumps at Daryl, who is to slow to react. Tyreese has his hands locked on Daryl's shirt, "Huh? Is murder okay here now?" he begins to scream in his and right as I reach for my pistol Rick extends his arm out, telling me no.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "Tyreese, I am a sheriff, I will find the person who did this, you have to give us time." Rick tries to reason with him, but it's no use, Tyreese throws a punch at Rick, knocking him against the wall.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" He keeps punching Rick before he finally snaps; Rick punches him back and knocks him against the cold, hard concrete. He climbs on top of him and keeps knocking his face, punch, after punch. Daryl finally pulls Rick off of Tyreese, I look at his swollen face, he has a black eye and has blood running off of his poor face.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "We are going to find the person who did this…" Rick keeps murmuring, "we will…" he keeps repeating that same line over and over again as he hobbles off of the roof, Daryl and I hopelessly follow him.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" If I had it my way, I would have put a cap in his head, we don't need mentally unstable people running around, starting fights that they can't finish. I wish I had shot him, people die every day, they still get murdered, I understand him being angry but there is no reason to go about and starting fights.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "You alright?" I ask Daryl without looking at him.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" "I'm fine."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" I could have predicted that, we keep our eyes ahead of us, it's insane, that even in this world of walking dead, there are still people going around and killing other people. You'd think that the living would join together against the dead, but no. there are still people out there, taking the life's of their living counter parts.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;" My muscles tense, there is a murderer in this prison, in the same prison as Colby. I'm going to have to step up protection, maybe give Colby a knife or a pistol. The hardest part will be teaching him how to use it without the big dogs (Daryl and Rick) finding out.p 


	5. Chapter 5

p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;"Chapter Five: Something Blue/p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;"I wake up the next morning alert. My eyes pry open like something in a movie, effortlessly. I sit up, and without rubbing my face or touching my hair, I hop outta' bed. I tip toe around, careful not to make too much noise; I'd hate to wake up Colby, he hasn't been sleeping very well lately. I wonder if he's getting along with the other kids.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;"I run a brush though my dark brown hair quickly before tossing it in a ponytail, and a few strands of my hair hang over my face; the left overs of my bangs I once had. I step in front of the mirror, I open my mouth to check my teeth, they've yellowed since the infection. I grab a wet rag and run it over my pale skin, looking in the mirror I see my eyes, or well, the shell of what they used to be.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;"They used to be filled with love, hope, and glee. They used to shine with aspiration, glowed in the sun as its rays touched my porcelain skin. I used to think the blue was dull and more grey then anything, but now I see what they've become. A dull, dark cloudy vision of what they used to be. I wish I appreciated how my eyes used to shine, how they used to radiate an advantageous energy. Now, they're a hollow shell of the past. Like all the goodness in my life has drained away, but as I lean in closer, I see a fragment of the old blue, locked around my pupil, a diamond in the ruff.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;"I step away from the mirror and turn around, rubbing the crick in my neck. I'm sure the reflection of my Foster tattoo is shining gleefully in the mirror. I walk to the dresser (or what's left of it), and pull my jacket over myself, covering my tattoo. p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;"Before leaving our cell I climb the bunk to check on Colby, he rests with his head on the airy pillow, drool trickling down his chin, the stuffed dog I gave him coiled up under his left arm. I smile and climb down. As I back through the door, I slowly close the cell gate. As I turn around I'm greeted by a familiar face.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;""Daryl." I say like I knew he has been standing there the whole time.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;""Nice tattoo." He must have seen my Foster tattoo, or its reflection.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;""How long have you been standing there?" I ask shifting my weight to my right leg, crossing my arms. p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;""Long enough to see your tattoo. Is Foster your son?"p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;""Yeah." I respond without any emotion.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;"There is a river of silence that over comes us, our blue eyes meet, mine cloudy and dull, his broken and silent. "You picked a good name." He finally speaks.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;""Thanks. I thought so too." I look away, hiding the emotion and memories that sweep over me, "But, if you don't mind me asking, what are you doing here?"p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;""Strolling by." He lied.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;""Daryl."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;""I was coming to see how you were doing, and if you were doing well enough to come on a run." He admits, crossbow over his shoulder with his dirty hands on the strap.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;""I see I passed." I slip a smile out. He looks at me with curiosity on his face, "Sure." I say before he has time to say anything else.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;""Great." He says, "When can you leave?"p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;""After I say goodbye to Colby." I say with my arms still crossed.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;""When will he be up?"p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;""Not sure." I shrug as I walk towards a chair and look out the window about thirty feet up. He follows me and sits in the chair perpendicular to mine. There is not much said within the time we sit there. Just the usual, 'how are you', and the 'how did you sleep' type of questions. I can't read Daryl as well as I can other people. And personally, that's one of the things that drive me crazy. When I can't read the people I'm supposed to be partnering with, I can't tell if I can trust them.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;"In my peripheral vision I see him, cold, wounded, with his brown hair hanging over his rugged face, his broken blue eyes ahead of him. He breaks the silence with possibly the worst question in the history of ever, and I mean ever.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;""So, tell me about Foster."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;""Well, what do you want to know." My voice cracks a little as I swallow sadness.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;""Who does he look like?" he asks without looking at me.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;"I smile and look at the table; I imagine Foster's perfect little face, his perfect round cheeks and his perfect blond baby hair atop his perfect little head. "Me." I finally leak out.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;""Oh?" he cuts a glance at me, a little smirk across his dirty face.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;""Yeah." I smile, "He was handsome."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;""Was?" he asks, turning to me.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;""Was." I repeat.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;""Oh," he quickly responds, "I had no idea, Florence."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;""It's okay you didn't know." I sit back in my chair, "if it makes you feel any better, he didn't pass because walkers ripped him open or anything like that. He passed happy, a smile on his face, his porcelain skin glistening in my arms. He didn't pass because he was sick, or hurting. He just," I choke a little, "wasn't ready to see the world yet." I fight the tear in my eye as I look at the ceiling.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;"He picked up what I was putting down, "I'm sorry." He meekly peeps, "I've never lost a child or anything, but I lost my brother, who was kinda' a baby, but I know the feeling of loss." I think that's the first time I've heard the hick use a real sentence. I let a smile swipe across my face, losing a brother is not the same as losing a child, but he was more sensitive to Foster then most of the people who tell me to move on.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;""Glad you kinda' understand." I let out, raising my arms to my head and place my hands behind my head.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;""He had my eyes, you know." I speak of him with pride. "He had his Mommy's eyes, his Daddy's hair. He would have had his Mommy's attitude to; if he grew up acting like his father I think I'd have to put him through boot camp. He would have been the captain of every sports team he was on, and he would be a gentleman and be kind and caring but still keep the manly exterior. He would be tall and muscular and his hair would have darkened out as his got older but he would have never lose the youthful spark in his eyes. And his skin would never tan well because he inherited my Irish skin. Heh," I look back at my hands, "and he would never see hardship, and he would go to college, meet a wonderful girl who that he'd bring home to meet me. And I'd love her cause my son loved her. And he would get married to that girl and have his own children that I would babysit for them, each sharing the common trait of my eyes. And we'd be happy." I sigh as I close my eyes. I often dream of what could be.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;"Daryl doesn't say much, he just kinda sits there listening to me rant about how Foster would grow up to be the president or an astronaut or a doctor, or whatever he wanted to be cause he as my son. He doesn't speak, he just listens, and I love that.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;"I finally get everything off of my chest that I've been hiding for years now. And I've let it all out to a complete stranger, a man who I met not even a week ago. A man who is silent and kept a huge (huge to me) secret. A man who doesn't come across as the type who'd sit and listen to an old marine's baby troubles. A man who is starting to grab a hold of my heart.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;"I need to shake off those feelings, and keep them shaken. Love makes you weak, love makes you blind, love makes you lose your goals because all you can think about is them, them, them. I need to store those feelings, or better yet, throw them away. There is no room in my heart for anyone, only Foster and Colby; those are the only men I need in my life. Not Andrew and not Daryl.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;"Besides, I don't think he even shares the same feelings. For all I know he is spying on me again, holding my secrets to use them against me at some time. But the funny thing is, I don't care. I spit out words I thought I would never speak of again, and someone em style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; outline: none;"listenedem to me. Someone sat down with me, and em style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; outline: none;"listened/em./p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;"A tear rolls down the cheek away from Daryl, so he doesn't see it. I let it roll; if I catch it then more will follow to fill up my palm. I let it roll across my rosy cheek and scratch off my porcelain chin, and land on my old, dusty green marine pants. The tear is soaked up by the fabric, and it's forever lost. I'm glad it's not resting in my palm, I'm glad it's gone now.p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;""Anyway," I try and speak like I'm not on the verge of crying, "thank you."p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;""For what?"p  
>p style="margin: 0px; padding: 8px 0px; outline: none; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px;""listening." I quietly whisper which a smile painted on my face.p 


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

I spent majority of my day avoiding all forms of life, I even avoided Colby, even though he doesn't deserve it. I just need my space, there's so much going on in the prison, so much going on in my head. I just need peace and quiet, the type of quiet you can only get in seldom, the type of peace you can only get from isolation. The lonely forest accepts me into its tender, earthy embrace. I am one with this seclusion, I am not a stranger to lonesomeness this deep.

I shouldn't feel this way. I have a home now, someone to care for. But, now that I have someone to fill the void, why do I still feel so numb? I'm not mad, happy or upset. I'm just numb, so damn numb. My highs I get from Colby's full teeth smile is the happiest I've been in years.

Even Daryl, someone who seems as cold as I am, has brought some warmth into the artic I call my heart. Everyone around me seems so bright, making the best of every situation, so freaking _happy_. Everyone, except me. I find it hard to find a rainbow in this heavy grey that has controlled my life for God knows how long. Everywhere I look, I just see gray, so much damn gray. Even Colby seems gray to me at times. I wish I could just shake it off, but I can't. How can I shake something off that has rotted me down to my very core?

In the walkers, I see myself. I see things that are just _existing_. They have no direction, all set on one small thing – survival. I'm no better than them. I've killed… so many damn people! So many lives, taken by my selfish hands! I can still see them, in my dreams, where they watch me sleep, haunt my memories, set a plague in my mind. I'm infected, not by this hellish disease, but by my own short comings. I am a walker of a different breed.

I look far into the forest in front of me, and all I see is gray, gray gray gray. Why… why did I choose this road? I should have listened to my mother, go to college, get the degree in secondary education, the debt would be worth it, she used to tell me… but no. I had to go my own way, I had to be rebellious and not just join the military, but the marines. I chose to specialize in distance field combat. I chose the life of a trained killer. I still wonder about how different everything would be, if I chose the safe route, if I listened to my mother. I wish you were still here, Mom. I miss you so much.

I fall to my knees, hot tears falling from my hollow, broken eyes. I look up to the gray sky, into the gray sun. I begin to sob. I can't control my emotions. My hands start to shake and no matter how much I tell them to stop, they won't. If I can't be strong for myself, how can I be strong for anyone else? How can I be strong for Colby?

It's been so long since I've fallen into a depression this deep. It's like I'm drowning, and I can see the light shining through the surface of the water but I can't bring myself to swim to the top. I can feel the salt water in the back of my throat. Andrew was always able to bring me up, be my life jacket, my life guard, my life boat, _my life_. It was thanks to him I knew the real love of a man, he gave me a child, a home, a new beginning. If only he were here-

But he's not here! He will never be here! Why would he want to be with me anyway, he left me, at the bottom of my depression, months after Foster died. Alone, cold, starving, I couldn't even bring myself to eat. He was all I had left, the color in my life started to drain after Foster, but completely vanished with Andrew. I loved him with all my heart, I loved him with everything I had in me, with every inch and fiber of my being, I loved that man! We have matching tattoos of our son for Christ's sake…

I fall to the earth's surface. The smell of leaves enter my nose. Foster, Foster my baby boy… I'm sorry Mommy couldn't protect you, I'm sorry you died in me, I'm sorry you never got the chance to live… I'm so sorry. I hope you're looking down at me, cheering for me, I want you to know that Mommy loves you very much. I've never stopped. I wish you were here in my arms, in my life, in this prison with me. But you'll always be in my heart. If I had you again you'd be the spark that reignites the color in my life.

I can feel myself falling into sleep, its grabbing my hand and pulling me under, it's shutting my eyes against my will, even hushing my thoughts till I am at peace. All I can see is Foster's lifeless little body in my arms, my tears landing on his soft, beautiful little face. I love you, son. Please come home.


End file.
